Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Paraguay and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Blossom Toes to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
In Retrospect,
Au Pairs,
a-ha,
Bang On A Can,
Traffic Nightmare,
Todd Rundgren,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Panda Bear,
Delta 5,
The Victims,
Gang Starr,
Funky Four + One,
Janne Schatter,
Magazine,
Peter and Kerry,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Angels of Light,
The Fugs,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Lydon,
The Fortunes,
Young Marble Giants,
Byron Stingily,
Jandek,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gang of Four,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The American Breed,
Eric Copeland,
Carl Craig,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gastr Del Sol,
Livin' Joy,
Sam Rivers,
New York Dolls,
Pharoah Sanders,
Q65,
Mo-Dettes,
Avey Tare,
The Trojans,
Funkadelic,
Echospace,
Mary Jane Girls,
Heaven 17,
The New Christs,
Quantec,
Main Source,
Pet Shop Boys,
Massinfluence,
Isaac Hayes,
The Index,
U.S. Maple,
Gichy Dan,
Fad Gadget,
The Mummies,
June of 44,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.